


Snowdrop

by LaLimonata



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 20:53:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15893958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaLimonata/pseuds/LaLimonata
Summary: AU about Tom Riddle's birth.





	Snowdrop

**Author's Note:**

> I just thought this was really cute. Sorry for not updating, I've been ill but I'm working on Cave. xxx

The wind raged through the street, silencing the painful screams of a dirty, gaunt woman. She was incredibly thin but heavily pregnant, pleading for help as she leant against the brick wall. She was a few steps away from an orphanage, her limp hair falling into her face as she sunk down onto the floor. Tears streamed down her face. 

Then her hair was being held back, and a soft cloth was wiping away the tears, removing the streaks from her face. She whimpered as a kind voice told her she was in safe hands. And then she was in a bed, surrounded by the smells of frankincense and peppermint. Push, someone was saying, push. And the screams fractured the snow filled world outside. A baby boy was born. They were cleansed, and he was swaddled in white cloth and passed to his mother who fell in love all over again. She was crying again but this time in joy. Her heart was no longer in pain as she looked down at her son. He had his father’s eyes, she was glad. 

She held him close and whispered to him how much she loved him and how he would be so great and so beautiful. The duo fell asleep and were tucked in by the kind voice, mother in bed and baby in the cot beside her.  
*** Merope woke up panicked, where was her baby? Her beautiful Tom? And then she noticed the cot beside her. She was so weak she could only lean down and look at him. The kind voice spoke again, and she looked up, taking its owner in for the first time.

Kind brown eyes were set into a tanned face, freckles dusting her nose. Her smile was kind and her wild curls were escaping her bun. Her apron was the cleanest thing Merope had seen.

“How do you feel? Hungry?” she said. Merope only nodded, a little afraid. What if her baby was taken from her?

“I brought you some toast, and some water. See what you can stomach for now, and then I’ll make some soup.” 

A little tray was set in front of her with a plate of buttered toast, and a posy of lavender in a vase. The stranger explained that she had seen her slumped on the sidewalk as she came home from work. She was a midwife and had taken Merope to her home to give birth safely.

“I’m a witch,” she said. Her patient relaxed a little as she nibbled on her toast. She had been worried that her wand would be found, not that she could perform many spells. Her wand was still her most prized possession now after she had sold her family heirlooms to feed herself. It had seemed pointless as she threw up most things she ate but she was determined to survive for her son.

The baby began to cry. The midwife bent over him, picking him up and handing him to his mother.

“He must be hungry,” she said encouragingly. Merope nervously exposed her breast and Tom began to suckle on it before beginning to cry. Merope looked at her saviour, helplessly. She had never imagined that she would not be able to provide for her child. The midwife indicated she wanted to look at her breast.

“Did they grow much during pregnancy?”

A simple shake of the head. Merope felt as though she had failed her beautiful son. She was left alone with instructions to cuddle him, skin on skin. Her tears mingled with his.

The midwife came back holding a small bottle with some kind of milky substance. She explained it was a substitute for breastmilk, one of the best money can buy. 

“Many women cannot nurse their children, love. Don’t worry,” she said, as she showed Merope how to feed her baby. Their eyes met; the midwife blushed. She turned away, busying herself with tidying the room.

“What’s,” Merope croaked, before clearing her throat, “What’s yer name?”

“Oh!” the midwife said, embarrassed, “Hermione, Hermione Granger.”

“That’s a pretty name,” Merope said. They smiled at each other shyly.


End file.
